A large ramshackle brownstone at 7 Middagh Street in Brooklyn, in a bold experiment in artistic communal living, served for a brief period in the early 1940's as home to the likes of Benjamin Britten, W.H. Auden, Carson McCullers, Gypsy Rose Lee and Erika Mann. It would seem to be a natural topic for a play, what with the mix of personalities, proclivities and peccadilloes (not to mention addictions and obsessions) that such a group of noted intellectuals would produce.
But the rising composer Gabriel Kahane and his writing partner Seth Bockley decided that the residents of the house should sing and have thus fashioned a new musical called "February House" around this little known historical venture that is now enjoying its world premiere at New Haven's Long Wharf Theatre. It's not that far-fetched of a notion, what with composer Britten boarding there with his partner, the tenor Peter Pears, and tenant Gypsy Rose Lee noted for her playfully erudite strip-tease routines.
The final result, however, is interesting but disappointing, with a book that fails to build tension and a score that can at times feel monotonous and downright gloomy. Although set in the 1940's, the music is often more referential to Britten's subsequent dissonant 12-tone experiments than to the popular music of the time. With only piano and banjo accompaniment, the singing actors are required to provide much of the musical resonance, with their voices filling in some of the contrast to the instrumental line. While many in the cast have sturdy musical backgrounds, they are often required to speaking on note, rather than singing on note.
At times, Kahane's score and Bockley's book do not always mesh comfortably. For example, Bockley will depict a situation so adequately that a song to explore the character's feelings is not really necessary. At other times, Kahane's score undercuts some of the intended action, as when an outsider remarks how stimulating living in the house must be, but the music has been too contemplative and rueful.
Contemplative and rueful is certainly not what the house's owner, magazine editor George Davis anticipated as he worked to convince his literary friends to take up residence with him in Brooklyn Heights. True, these young ambitious folk had a lot on their minds. Britten was conducting a middling orchestra on Long Island and had yet to achieve his first great success. McCullers was a noted short story writer who was having trouble completing her first novel, The Heart is a Lonely Hunter. Auden was in the midst of a love affair with a young poet, Chester Kallman, that left him feeling jealous and fearful. Lee was attempting to break away from her burlesque past and move into the entertainment mainstream. But one would assume that before they all began to get on each other's nerves and the communal experiment began falling apart, that we would be shown some of their thrilling, exciting and even inspiring discussions.
The book also gives short shrift to the ongoing relationship between the homosexual Auden and the lesbian Mann, who were actually in a marriage of convenience at the time in order to obtain a passport for Mann. We witness the initial antagonism when Mann first moves into the house, but any continuing strains are ignored even as Mann begins an affair with McCuller's needy, insecure Southern Belle.
Bockley's book, however, does succeed quite touchingly in depicting the sweetly tender relationship between Davis and McCullers. This is aided by the performances of Julian Fleisher and Kristen Sieh who inhabit their characters with a believable quirkiness and vulnerability that serves to underline the genuine courage they had to deploy in order to navigate society at that time.
Throughout the evening, Kahane does reveal himself to be a clever and masterful lyricist. The words to his songs pour naturally and effortlessly from his characters' mouths. His complex internal rhyme schemes are never forced or strained, with the rhymes themselves, along with his lyrics in general, reflecting the intellectual capabilities and poetical natures of the brownstone's residents.
His two strongest numbers for this viewer were "Wanderlust," which captures the speed and freedom as Mann and McCullers dream of taking to the open road while Auden promises to install Kallman in mansion in England, and "Goodnight to the Boardinghouse" which becomes a rueful lament by the end of the evening. "Chester's Etiquette" is a mildly amusing sequence in which a condescending Kallman gives sartorial tips to Britten and Pears as they prepare to attend an Elsa Maxwell party in order to wrangle an invitation to the event.
An odd misstep is "A Little Brain," Gypsy Rose Lee's faux-striptease to her intellectual pronouncements which, while indeed audience pleasing in Kacie Sheik's delicious rendition, reminds one of how much better Rodgers and Hart did essentially the same thing with "Zip" from Pal Joey.
Davis McCallum's direction is deceptively simple, as he has to manage a houseful of people across a single level playing area that represents different rooms on different floors of the building, even the roof. He is particularly successful at drawing well-developed performances from the women in the cast, although Stephanie Hayes' Erika Mann can sometimes approach caricature particularly with her thick German accent.
I don't know how historically accurate the performances of some of the actors are, particularly those of Stanley Bahorek and Ken Barnett as Britten and Pears, who appear as an uptight, insufferable couple who sometimes function as one person. Erik Lochtefeld portrays Auden as one imagines the poet to have been like, a mix of professional confidence and personal insecurity. A.J. Shively makes for a handsome, vacuous Kallman with only limited devotion to his mentor. Ken Clark plays McCullers' estranged husband the frequently intoxicated Reeves McCallers, who strives to maintain his unhealthy connection with his wife through a mix of canny timing and over-familiarity with her moods.
Striving to hold this imperfect family together is Fleisher's Davis, who effects a sad flamboyance as the one-hit wonder novelist/editor attempting to manage the household with a cavalier attitude that values friendship more than finance.
Riccardo Hernandez's set features a period-accurate parquet floor with a mix of tables, chairs and couches pressed into service to represent various rooms all held in place by a rectangular molding hanging above the stage. Jess Goldstein's costumes range from formal suits for Britten to dressing gowns for Davis, from Lee's evening suit that begins her strip tease to Mann's more masculine choices for outfits. Goldstein's designs support each character's individuality and offer a bit of visual insight into their personalities.
Two musicians support the effort at the side of the stage, with pianist and music director Andy Boroson sitting at a grand piano that also serves as Britten's piano and Andy Stack on banjo and guitar, with the banjo frequently underlining McCullers' numbers. McCallum permits some clever moments on those occasions when Boroson needs to move to accommodate Britten at the piano
There is an inherent curiosity in watching these characters interact and learning if their living arrangements made a difference in their creative lives, which overcomes the book's lack of momentum. In addition, McCallum, Kahane and Bockley do create some genuinely moving moments as when Pears breaks down listening to a radio broadcast of his beloved London's bombing and when Britten, Auden and Pears agonize over their absence from England at a time of its greatest need.
"February House" is the nickname given to the house when it was discovered that many of its residents had February birthdays and Davis quickly adopted the moniker. It's also appropriate for a work that, despite the aspirations of a talented team working with a genuinely worthy subject, leaves a chilly feeling in the air.
February House runs through March 18 on Long Wharf's Stage II before moving on to New York's Public Theater. For tickets and information, visit the Long Wharf website or call 203.787.4282.
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